Voiceless
by madamada-chan
Summary: Words. Voice. Fuji tries to figure out what they mean. To him. To Ryoma. And to both of them. [FujiRyo. Companion fic to Sleepless]


erm... a sort of companion fic to **Sleepless**

* * *

_A voice gives life to words_

_Words carry meaning_

_Words are the source of misunderstanding _ (1)

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**Voiceless**

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"For a prodigy, you're surprisingly stupid. Just because you're older than me doesn't mean you won't get sick." Even the angry scowl and chiding tone can't wane the smile that brightens your tired face.

'Sorry', you want to say, but your throat feels too dry and your voice just stubbornly refuses to come out. And so you settle for a sheepish (close-eyed) smile.

He takes the wet piece of cloth on your forehead and dips it in a basin of diluted alcohol, then squeezes the excess liquid out before putting it back. Upon contact, the coolness of the damp fabric spreads throughout your head.

He sits on the floor, mumbling something about your umbrella, which he shouldn't have accepted. You throw him a disapproving look, making the boy pout in response. "But look at what happened."

The little glint of guilt in his eyes prompts your fingers to run through his hair.

'Suki da yo', you mouth to him.

Just like always, he smiles. It's not like his arrogant smirk to challenge an opponent, or his triumphant grin after having won a match. It's a heartfelt, contented look that tells you he understands what you were trying to say.

"Oyasumi, Syuusuke."

But... as usual, he doesn't give the three words back.

With the fever is taking its toll, your eyelids fall as you welcome much needed sleep.

---

_You couldn't erase the image from your mind. And no matter how hard you tried to block the sound, her shaking voice kept ringing in your ears. _

_When you stepped into the Photography Club's meeting, the usual animated chattering wasn't there. What welcomed you was thick, almost unsettling silence broken only by echoes of soft sobs. _

_ "I've seen all the signs but I kept my eyes stubbornly closed. He… was never sure of his feelings." _

_Apparently, the club president had just broken up with her boyfriend. _

_ "No wonder he never said it back." _

_ It wasn't because you knew they've been childhood friends. And it wasn't because no one noticed there was something wrong until it was too late, either. No. What shook you the most were the things she said as you blankly watched the droplets falling from her eyes, washing away one trail only to leave another. _

_ "No matter how many times I told him that I love him, he never said it back. Even just once! Not even… even if it meant he had to lie…"_

_If those two, who had been together for that long, and probably knew each other that much, still doubted their feelings… _

_ "… he never said it back." _

_The roar of thunder shifted your attention to the window. On the sprawling grounds below, you saw students scampering for the nearest shade. A familiar figure that came from the direction of where the tennis courts are caught your eyes. Your gaze followed him until the drops of water pounded on the glass and blurred your view._

_"I'll be right back." You announced to everyone- or in that situation, to whoever heard you- before you grabbed your umbrella and rushed out of the room._

---

You're not sure if you're still dreaming or just half-asleep, but you can faintly hear someone humming. From the soft melody, you start to make out some words.

_/ You'd probably laugh if I told you how I feel /_

Your drowsy mind can't decide if it wants to continue listening or just fall right back asleep again. The gentle voice feels like a cradle, lulling your consciousness to slumber.

_/ … heart is trembling… search for a response /_

Or perhaps it's the words that are gentle?

_/ If all of the world is crying, I will smile for your sake /_

Then softly, like the caress of a night breeze, you feel fingers running through your hair.

_/ Words just cannot express just how much I feel about you / _ (2)

And suddenly the voice sounds familiar. Familiar and soothing.

---

Deep, thick black soon fades into a reddish orange shade when the sun's rays sneaking in through the gap between the curtains hit your closed eyelids. When you open your eyes your gaze travels around your room before it stops on the dozing boy curled up on the floor, leaning on the edge of your bed. Your gentle pat draws a soft mumbling from him. And he opens his eyes. He blinks absently before looking up at you. When you scoot over and tap the space beside you, he simply shrugs and climbs up.

How he sleeps with such abandon right next to you never fails to warm your heart. If it were any other person- especially a person who knew the other side of the mild-mannered, seemingly angelic Fuji Syuusuke- they would, without a doubt, sleep beside a lion instead.

Poor Ryoma… It must've been tiring to take care of me, you think to yourself. Come to think of it, he might have to deal with another day of guessing what you want and what you need because your throat still refuses to cooperate.

But yesterday went well, didn't it? Somehow, it felt like Ryoma knew and understood simple things like you were thirsty, or you wanted to read a book (and which one), or if you wanted to just let time pass by in silence. A companionable, and not tense, stillness.

It was amazing how he understood you even without words.

Without words…

_Without_ words…

It feels like you've just finished a puzzle, and with the last piece in place, you can now see the picture.

Of course. Ryoma was always… like that. It's rare to hear him say more than one sentence at a time. And even rarer to hear him talk about things other than tennis. If one would ask him why, you are almost certain that he would say, 'why waste my voice on unimportant (not related to tennis) matters? Besides… Words are mada mada da ne'.

As you remember what he sang for you last night (and you're pretty sure he'll deny it later and tell you the fever must've gotten to your head), you can't help but come to a conclusion.

Sometimes, words just aren't enough.

* * *

(1) quoted from The Little Prince by Antoine de St. Exupery   
(2) ahahahaha… blame it on the LSS of Futari I had for the past few days. Minagawa Junko's voice can be an obsession. Beware.

translated lyrics credited to **moonsalute**

and oh! and I'd just like to thank **forochel** for helping me get over the pain called editing --;;

Disclaimers: Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi.

ermm... i am still not satisfied with this. it feels like there's something... lacking. Saa... --;;


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